


The Lost Spirits

by Kaizanna



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Eventual Smut, Eventual rating change, F/M, Not sure what else to tag yet, POV Third Person, non-battle trained Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:46:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6533971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaizanna/pseuds/Kaizanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lin Lavellan was not a warrior. Nor was she a Mage, or even a hunter. No, Lin wore the Vallaslin of Sylaise- the Hearthkeeper. So the sudden arrival of the Anchor on her hand is nothing she is prepared for, and not only must she learn how to cope with its existence, the woman must learn to fight, protect herself and protect others from the monsters of the world.</p><p>Solas, on the other hand, was a Mage; he was prepared to do what he must to retrieve his orb, to continue his work and regain his lost power. He was not prepared for his plan to fail, for the Magister to survive, or for this strange Dalish woman to bear his Mark. Though now he needs to recapture his stolen power, his attention is slowly taken by Lin, and the strange secrets she keeps.</p><p>Please see start of chapter for details.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first attempt at Dragon Age; Inquisition fanfiction. Any Elven I do not see frequently used will be translated at the bottom of the page.
> 
> There will be smut, violence, and eventual cannon divergence. The point of view is third-person, and the narrative shall switch between Solas and Lin, sometimes both per chapter, sometimes one each chapter.
> 
> And the fun word of the chapter is; Purlicues- the space between one's thumb and index finger when extended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, it's been a long time hasn't it? A few edits have been made to this one, and I'll be editing two as well before I try to post number three. Not much was done with this chapter, but still.

The first time Solas had laid eyes on the woman who bore his Mark, she was unconscious. Her clenched hands bound before her as she laid on the dirty stone, looking far from peaceful in her unconsciousness. The green of her dress was hardly distinguishable under the filth, and her bare, exposed arms made it easy to see the web-like veins glowing on her tanned skin up to her elbow. She was Dalish, made obvious by the golden slave-markings of Sylaise that practically took over her face. It was a shame; she would be rather lovely if the marks were not disfiguring her. Her crimson hair was impressively long, even bound back in the braid that wound over her neck and shoulder. The study of her physical form was brought to an end by the less-then-polite cough released by one of the women watching him. With the vigilance of both the Seeker and the odd Chantry woman over his shoulder, he returned his attention to the task at hand. Carefully examining the mark, it became quickly apparent that it was acting the part of a parasite; drawing at her very life to keep itself alive. That the release of his pent up power would present itself in such a fashion was _fascinating._

Over the course of the next several hours, the elf plucked at the various threads of magic around the woman, coaxing the point of power back into her hand, rather than traveling ever closer to her slowly-beating heart. Several times he had to pause his work; occasionally because the magic was flaring out, the breach reaching for it's anchor with a brutal insistence that made her body go stiff, arched as she screamed for several minutes before her body relaxed once more. Other times, her chest stopped it's rise and fall, like she was caught just on the edge of death. During these times, Solas held his own breath, hands hovering over her skin as he waited for her body to make up it's mind on if it would fail. Even when she would begin to breathe again with a deep gasp, he wouldn't move until he was sure she wouldn't stop the moment he began working on her. When finally, he had focused as much of the destructive energy back into the woman's palm as he could, he was briskly removed from the chamber. Exhaustion pulled at him, but knowing he had probably saved her life gave him a small sense of peace; whether or not she woke up was entirely up to her after this.

The second time was a day later, when the mis-matched group he had found himself apart of worked on destroying the demons at the rift. It was clear that she had absolutely no training in the art of battle; from the way she held her daggers, to how quickly she became exhausted. Finally closing the rift looked like it had done her physical pain, and a dagger of remorse stabbed at his heart. Solas even had to catch her as the rift sealed, and when she looked up at him, he had been surprised to see that her eyes were a bright, vivid yellow. They flashed in the dim light of the dying day, and the sight was almost unnerving. Carefully, the man steadied her on her feet, not anticipating the tired, sly-looking smile she had sent his way.

The smile only grew as Varric introduced himself, almost everything he said earning some small jab from the elven apostate, to her seemingly endless amusement. It seemed she had a sense of humor that was easily brought out, a quality he found rather likable. Her thanks to him had even been genuine, not the sneer he admittedly would have expected one of the Dalish to give an elf with an unmarked face.

"I am Lin," Blood, like the color of her hair. "Of clan Lavellan." She bowed on unsteady legs, and he felt the urge to reach out to help her, though he resisted the second time. Any further pleasantries were put on hold as the mark pulsed again, sending her to the ground, whimpering in pain. A forceful reminder of what needed to be done, it seemed. Cassandra hauled her up, ignoring the wince on Lin's face as she did so, and urged them on. The next rift was dealt with in the same manor- she looked in absolute agony. It was almost like closing them was pulling her apart. In truth, he wouldn't doubt if that was exactly what it felt like for her.

A sense of admiration overcame Solas as he watched Lin's back straighten as they finally reached the camp. Her smile was wicked, toothy and dangerous, the exhausted shake hidden by the time they made it to the Spymaster, who was arguing with a man of the Chantry. The moment the human saw them, he looked disgusted by their very presence- though his eyes were focused on Lin. The demand for her execution by the Chantryman was met with a laugh, and even Cassandra, already visibly furious, looked to Lin.

"This is exactly what I meant when I called your Chantry filth, earlier." The Chancellor had gapped at her for that, looking humorously indignant even as Cassandra stepped forward, grimance on her own face. Placing a hand on the elven woman's shoulder, as though to steady her, the Seeker looked coldly at Rodrick.

"Not all of the Chantry is so ruthless as to demand the death of a possible innocent without a proper trial. This glorified clerk has no right to order me to do any such thing."

"And this _heathen_ ," He sneered at Lin, who simply lifted a mocking brow, the smile growing. "Is hardly an innocent! You supposedly serve the Chantry, do you not? Arrest her!" He cried.

"We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor. As you well know." Lelianna interrupted, and the man's ire quickly turned to her, still sneering.

"Justinia is dead! We must elect a replacement, and obey her orders on the matter." The man had snarled, trying to look imposing. No one was impressed.

"So, if I understand this correctly..." Lin interuppted, stepping forward to lean over the table while staring the man in the eye, earning his attention once more. "No one is really in charge, and the Breach- which is quite literally killing me-" She clicked her teeth at him, lips drawn back in a snarl. "-is going to be left to spew forth demons?" Placing her hands on the table, she leaned forward causing the Chancellor to lean back in reaction. "Yes, I can see how your idea is entirely sound. Perhaps you should be the Divine!" Rodrick had flushed an ugly, blotchy red at her mocking, and Varric hadn't even bothered to conceal his laugh.

"You are responsible! You brought this on us in the first place, and you dare mock _me?"_

"Well you do make it so easy, _Sheep!_ " Lin snapped back.

Had it not been for Cassandra, Solas was entirely positive the Chancellor would have tried something crude in retaliation for her words. Instead, the Seeker brought the two to heel, and with only a little prodding, Lelianna had convinced Lin to take route through the mountains. They went as quickly as they could, picking up potions and a few other useful items for the trek. As soon as they were out of sight of the camp, the exhaustion she hid came back into the woman; shoulders slumping slightly, smile faded and eyes weary. Again, they closed yet another rift after eliminating the demons, and four humans had been left standing, surviving the twisted spirits of the mountains. Their almost confused gratitude was met with a half-smile and a dismissal. Despite the obvious disadvantages, the small woman fought on beside everyone else, downing the potions she had been given carefully and greedily. The mangled temple, however, seemed to stir something within her. The charred bodies still standing, disintegrated with the slightest touch, the smell of burnt meat and feel of tainted magic had been enough to make even his stomach roll, but Lin...

The bright red of the last potion she had consumed splattered the stones mere seconds after the smell had gotten to her nose. Had it not already been apparent, this action would have made it all to clear that this is not what she had ever had the misfortune to get used to before. Indeed, the uneasiness in which she walked through the rubble made the mage pity her, and several times he watched Varric reach up to steady her.

"Do you think you can do this?" Varric had asked, looking concerned. Her response was to laugh, tone humorless.

"Does it matter if I do or not? I'll be dead in the end, one way or another." There was a sardonic smile on her lips.

"I suppose not; though, do you really wanna make it that easy on the Chantry?" He cracked a rather cheesy smile at her, and a snort was the response.

"True- perhaps I will endevour not to die. Though it seems more trouble than it's worth to deny them at this point." Tiredly, she had lifted a filthy hand to wipe at her equally dirty face, smearing blood across her golden vallaslin. "Shall we? I get to rest at the end, one way or another." So resigned to die, even after her earlier bravado. And yet, when she fought Pride, she did far more evading than accepting fate. As a matter of fact, she screamed whenever it got too close to her, looking in the eye with something akin to fury twisting her features.

Had he been anyone else, he might not have noticed that Pride paused with every shriek, as though uncertain as to if he was allowed to touch her. Had he been anyone else, perhaps he might not have noticed that nearby demons also froze each time as well.

But he was not anyone else. He knew what he saw, and now Solas sat staring at her prone form, wondering how she had done it. Upon their return to Haven, they had stolen her away, cleaned the dirt from her, changed her clothes, and her long hair unwound from it's braid before putting her to rest in the cabin closest to the chantry. Now that she wasn't fighting off pain, she looked even younger than he had assumed at first. The roundness of her face was almost childish, though by the Vallislin he knew she must be of age. Three days of being unable to wake her, everyone wondering if she would survive the ordeal. Every few hours, he had entered to check the mark on her hand, and every time it grew lighter the furrow on her brow would lessen. Eventually, it resembled more of a glowing scar beneath her skin, rather than an angry, shining web like it had before it had retreated to her palm. It was temporary, of course. Eventually it would start to spread again, but with the rift at the Breach sealed for now, she wasn't in immediate danger. Perhaps later, he could help her-

A groan startled him from his thoughts, confusing him momentarily before Lin's face screwed up in pain, her arms lifting the blanket over her head. "My head..." Understanding dawned on him, and quickly, he closed the shutters and even choked the fire.

"Is that any better, Da'lan?" He asked, voice quiet.

"S'not as bright..." Solas watched as her hand came up, tugging the blanket from her face. Still, she squinted at him like he was the sun itself. "Solas?"

"Indeed. I came to check on you once more."

"Still pleased to see that I live?" A smile tugged at his lips in answer; she returned his smile almost... Shyly.

"Pleased to see that you live indeed. After three days of utter unconsciousness, it is also pleasing to see you awake as well." Her eyes went wide, the wicked yellow reflecting the fire's light.

"Three days?"

"Three days."

"I'm impressed the Seeker was able to keep them from killing me outright." The woman worked her jaw behind a closed mouth before grimacing. "I don't suppose you would be willing to get me water, would you? My tongue feels as prickly as a cat's right now."

"Of course." With a nod, he quietly moved to the table at her side that held the decanter of water and poured a cup. "Do you need help sitting up?" The man asked, turning with the full cup in hand.

"Ah..." An adorable flush covered her skin, from the tips of her ears down her throat. "Please?" Setting the cup back on the table, he pulled the covers down to her waist and took hold of her shoulders, pulling her into a sitting position. She winced again, and he wondered how she had been able to survive the Anchor, as weak as she appeared to be. "Ma serannas." Solas simply nodded, placing the pillows behind her back before offering her the cup. It nearly slipped from her fingers, and she scramble to hold it for a moment before bringing it to her lips. Water spilled over the sides of her lips from her desperation, running down her chin and throat to wet the top of her bedclothes before his hand lifted, pulling the cup away. The sound of protest that followed with her reaching hands made him chuckle.

"Not so quickly. You will get sick." Huffing, her golden eyes narrowed at him. "That will not sway me, Da'lan."

"I feel as though my mouth and throat have been left in the sun to bake."

"That will happen when you sleep as long as you did." His voice was amused, half-grin taking place of his earlier smile. She just rolled her eyes at him, reaching out her hands again.

"I suppose. Water?"

"Will you sip it?"

"Yes, Mamae." The snarky response earned her a startled laugh, finding her irritability at the refusal of her desire to consume too quickly a genuine amusement. Lin reached for the cup, but he did not remove his fingers from it, despite her narrowed eyes. Pretending not to notice her ire, Solas helped her drink, preventing her from taking it all in one gulp as she apparently wished. When she was finished, he set the cup down. "Do you feel better?" The woman shrugged in response, looking down at her hands, which picked at the blanket pooled around her hips.

"No?" Lin still did not lift her gaze, and he waited patiently for her to continue on. After several minutes of silence, broken only by the cracking of the fire, she finally lifted her eyes to meet his. "My head is throbbing, my heart hurts, and I've found myself held by shemlen in an unfriendly place." Her gaze fell back to her hand, twisting her left hand around to view the fissures in her skin caused by the mark. "I'm afraid." The words came out so softly, he nearly missed it; were he human, he would have. The thought of all the people that had massed outside of the cabin, leaving small trinkets at the side of her door, whispering Herald of Andraste to the wind like a prayer came to his mind. Many now were out there, watching over her- especially after the two attempts on the sleeping woman's life. Perhaps she had right to worry, but he didn't wish to scare her.

"I do not think the people of Haven wish you harm." The words came out slowly, his eyes moving towards the window. He missed the way her yellow eyes studied him, head cocked. "Quite the opposite, actually." Her snort brought his attention back to her, brow lifting curiously.

"I trust them less than I trust a Halla not to run at the sight of danger."

"A wise course of action, I suppose." He chuckled. "Cassandra wanted me to tell her if you awoke. There is something she wishes to discuss with you at the Chantry."

"My trial, I assume." Lin rolled her eyes and moved back to lean against the headboard, looking even more tired that she had fighting.

"I would not make that assumption, no." Now her brow lifted at him, her hands lifting to run through her loose crimson hair. "The people have taken to calling you the Herald of Andraste in your slumber, and a small mass of followers stands vigil at your door even now." A look of horror covered her features.

"Did you say Herald of Andraste?" She hissed, turning her head towards the door. "I'm Dalish. I don't want to be attached to their Maker, or his Bride in any possible way."

"And yet, the lines have already been drawn, pushing you to stand at their side in the eyes of the people. You closed the Breach- albeit temporarily- causing the demons to scatter. They see you as their savior." She snorted again.

"Clearly, they didn't see me running in circles around Pride." Solas grinned back at her.

"No, perhaps not. Though I have heard Varric is already spinning a magnificent tale about the elf that lead Pride on a merry chase." A true laugh escaped her, though she cringed and lifted a hand to her head.

"I'm sure he won't tell anyone I was screaming in terror the entire time." _But you weren't._ Solas continued to smile at her as she stared at the door. _You screamed, and it froze Pride in its place_. "I don't know that I'm ready to go see the Seeker." Her hand lifted, gripping the chord of some small item he had not noticed hanging from her neck in a fierce grip, her knuckles turning white.

"Wouldn't it be better to get it over with, than torture yourself with what they may want?" He pressed.

"Probably. It doesn't make me want to go any more, however." A deep sigh escaped her, and she dropped her hand, the item slipping back beneath the cotton slip without him seeing it. Unceremoniously, she pulled her hair over her shoulder to run her fingers through it, working out all the knots with careful fingers. "I would like to speak to the felasil who decided that they needed to remove my braid." She grumbled.

"I believe it was done when they bathed you." He did not miss the grimace return to her face.

"I also would like to know who did that, as well."

"Perhaps the Seeker might know." She sent him a dirty look, and he replied with an innocent smile.

"You are not as slick as you think you are, Mage." It was said like a dry observation, not an insult. She was intriguing, to say the least, and he wished there were a way to help her evade Cassandra.

"I had no intention of being slick, as you put it. Simply making a statement."

"A statement, of course." Lin clicked her tongue and leaned back against the frame of the bed, wicked eyes studying him. "Do I really have to go? Can't I simply pretend that I never woke?"

"Perhaps had I left a few minutes sooner. Alas, they will expect you to be awake by now." As though in answer, there was a tentative knock at the door. "See? Allow me; I will take care of it." Turning on his heels, Solas walked to the door, finding an elven woman, staring up at him with the widest eyes.

"Is.... is the Herald awake?" Thinking back to Lin's displeasure at the title, he decided to correct her.

"Lin is indeed awake. Would you perhaps be willing to tell the Lady Seeker? I will deliver her as swiftly as I can." The woman nodded excitedly, rushing off to do just that. The people near the cabin had obviously heard, as several scattered when the elf did, and he closed the door before anyone tried to get a look at their Herald. Turning, he saw her pouting on the bed like a petulant child.

"Traitor." The smile on his face faltered, despite her joking tone.

"Perhaps. Allow me to find your clothing, and I will take my leave until you are dressed." He began to search through the room and found a cloak and a suit-set that was a dull shade of brown and turned to her. The disgusted expression he found on her face was directed towards the tan suit-set he held in his right hand. Throwing the blanket off of her legs, she swung them round until the balls of her feet touched the floor.

"I'll not wear that. Just give me the cloak, and we can go." Thrusting out her hands, she patiently waited for him to follow her instructions, and after a moment's debate, he conceded. He would not, after all, be willing to force her to change. With reluctance, Solas set the suit back down on the table and offered her the heavy black cloak and watched her shove her arms through the wide sleeves, the tips of her fingers barely peaking out. For a moment, her fingers fumbled with the golden clasps, and before he could offer his help, she glared at him, as though knowing exactly what he had been thinking. Keeping his mouth shut, he watched her struggle, and took in the look of triumph on her face when she finally got it with great amusement. The innocent expression returned at the sharp gaze she sent his way, however.

"I suppose we can go now." She drawled, tugging her long hair from behind herself. With her both sitting and laying, it was hard to see exactly how long her hair was- almost to her hips, by all appearances with her now standing.

"No shoes, Herald?" He teased, unable to help himself, and took pleasure in her scowl.

"Only if I truly must. I see you have your own feet in wraps. Did you bring any for me?"

"Alas, I fear it is the shoes, or nothing."

"Than it shall be nothing." Hands gripping the edge of the bed, she rocked back before propelling herself forward. Overestimating the power required to stand, she tripped over the table at the side of the bed and nearly went down, had Solas not lunged forward to grip her sides. Unintentionally, his hands slid up higher up until he felt the swell of her breasts press along the curves of his purlicues, and both stopped moving. A flush started at the tips of his ears, and with a quick motion, he slid one hand to the top of her stomach to steady her, raising the other from her form to press on her shoulder.

"Ir abelas, Lin. I did not mean-" Laughter cut him off, and the flush spread further. Staring quizzically at her, he realized that there was color on her cheeks as well.

"You caught me, again, so I cannot be upset." The corners of the woman's lips lifted into a lazy smile. "Thank you for not letting me fall."

"Of- of course." Stiffly, Solas withdrew the hand still resting at her belly, and curled his arm around hers to steady her instead. Silence fell between them as they left the cabin, and not simply because of the accidental groping on his part. No, instead, the silence was brought on by the crowd of humans standing barely ten feet from the door. Some stared at her in reverence, and many others with open distrust or scorn. The mage felt her stiffen around his arm, and she drew to her full height; though he still towered over her. Head held high, the woman let him lead, subtly leaning on him so she didn't look weak in front of the people. Lin paused at the sight of the small hoard sitting beside her door, all carefully wrapped items settled where the snow had been brushed away to the frozen dirt beneath. A small tug on her arm pulled her away from it for now, and as they walked, the people parted before them. Soldiers that had recently jeered at her now stood solemn, a fist on their chests before her.

"A knife ear?"

"That can't be her- Andraste would not choose an elf to save us!"

"She closed the Breach; it must be true."

"The Chantry will have something to say about this." Fingers dug into the flesh of his forearm , and he moved his eyes towards her to see her lip twitch like she was fighting off a snarl.

"Ignore them. They do not matter." The words were spoken softly, his lips barely moving. Lin's nostrils flared as she sighed sharply through her nose. The words went back and forth; positive and negative, complimentary and not. It took longer than perhaps necessary to reach the Chantry, but the crowds parted slowly to allow them time to look at their savior. When, finally, they stood before the doors, she released his arm and stood straight on her own.

"Thank you, Solas." The smile she sent him was small, hesitant. "I'm sure I will see you after I'm finished here."

"I'm sure you will as well." His large hand lifted to rest on her shoulder, squeezing briefly before releasing her. "You will be fine." The assurance slipped out one last time when her narrow-eyed gaze slid to the door. Again she sighed, twirled a finger through her hair and nodded. Without another word, she pushed open the door and slipped inside, the door closing quietly behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is following Lin.

Rodrick's voice had gotten on Lin's nerves the _moment_ she heard it echoing through the Chantry. Being locked in the same room with him? The pain in her in her head went from mild to practically throbbing behind her skull. It didn't help that he was still insistent on her being taken into custody; at least he had claimed it for a trial rather than flat out murder this time, the darling. At some point she knew she had said something incredibly offensive to the three in the room, though what it was was entirely lost to her after her momentary victory. Though, if she was being honest, she hadn't meant to offend the two women, only the raving man.

  
He did turn a rather satisfying shade of purple though, and not even Cassandra bellowing in her ear could rob her of the joy she felt at the sight- dampen it a little? Perhaps. Rob her of it? Not at all. With every beat of her heart thudding through her ears and tapping at her brain, Lin hadn't bothered to interrupt Cassandra when she finally decided to return her wrath on Rodrick, allowing Lin to back away from the _felasil_ in Chantry robes.

"You know what this is, Chancellor?" The woman stabbed her finger at the cover of the book, glaring now solely at the man. "A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn." Once more, she began to stalk towards Rodrick. "We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With," The woman sneered, her finger reaching out to shove into his chest, much like she had the book as he backed away in apparent horror. "Or without your approval." The Chancellor looked at all of them, before drawing himself up, glaring and stiffly walking away. The moment his back was turned, Cassandra's righteous expression fell, and her hand lifted to the back of her head, rubbing furiously. Really, at that point Lin couldn't care less, her hands lifting to rub small, soothing circles into her temples with her fingers. Still, she wearily watched as Lelianna approached the book, running her fingers over it in a loving caress and remain silent until Rodrick slammed the door.

"This is the Divine's directive: rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos." Her brow furrowed, and she turned to look at Cassandra. "We aren't ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support." She laughed, as though disbelieving. Cassandra shook her head.

"But we have no choice. We must act now." Her attention returned to Lin, who cocked a confused brow at her. "With you at our side." The confusion vanished, replaced with a look of horror while finally realizing the trap she had naively walked into.

"Are you mad?" Lin demanded, gaping between the two of them. "I don't understand how I managed to survive in the first place. I am _not_ a fighter." The woman made a frustrated sound, fingers still burrowed in her hair, though pressing even tighter against her skin than when Rodrick had been in the room.

"We are more than capable of teaching you how to fend for yourself." Lelianna cooed, as though the honey in her voice would lure her. "You used daggers, yes? I know of several people who could teach you."

"I don't _want_ to fight!" She cried, untangling her hands to hold her arms wide, beseeching as she lost all of her earlier bravado. "I'm a hearth-keeper! I watch children and make clothing!"

"And yet, you must learn." Fists clenching, her gaze moved to glare at Cassandra, then back to Lelianna, then back again over and over. For a long while, the only sound was the elf breathing heavily through her nose, her jaw set firmly to the right.Trapped would certainly be the best way to describe her feelings as her heart began race.would she feel safe around these people, always having to keep her guard up lest they dig too deeply into her life. She'd been so honored to be asked to infiltrate the Conclave, but now she wondered if her Keeper would have still thought it wise to send the least-threatening member of their clan instead of Nerien. Eventually, the tension in her body fell away with her bitter thoughts, her head falling in time with her arms folding over her chest.

"If I refuse?" The elf did not look at either human as she asked this, already having an idea of the answer.

"You can go, if you wish." When the hooded woman spoke, disapproval was once more in her tone. The Seeker stepped closer to Lin, speaking with no less authority while her voice gentled.

"You should know that while some believe you are chosen, many still think you guilty." Lin's head lifted, gazing at the woman's face. "The Inquisition can only protect you if you are with us." Cassandra folded her arms, staring at her hard enough that Lin shifted uncomfortably and looked away again.

"It will not be easy if you stay, but you cannot pretend this has not changed you." Lin sneered at that, rounding on Cassandra to meet her gaze with fury. Unlike with Rodrick, there was only a brief moment of alarm in her gaze, no fear to be seen at all.

"Of _course_ I can't pretend this hasn't changed me!" She snarled, glaring at them harshly. "From what you are telling me, if I leave, others will hunt me down- likely your Chantry, or those thinking they're doing the Chantry's work- and slaughter me should I choose to go. It doesn't exactly give me much choice in the matter, does it? Stay, and you might possibly live; or go, and find yourself meeting an almost certain death!" The look of pity in the Seeker's eyes made her grit her teeth with anger. Looking away, she reached up with her left hand, pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. Breathing slowly to calm herself, the elf found herself sinking into the only available chair in the room. The pounding in her head had gotten worse at her own shouting, and now was rapping an insistent tune into her skull. A dull ache spread through her hand, and the glow of the Mark made her open her eyes again, staring down at her palm.

"What do you mean by 'Inquisition of old', exactly?" Lin asked, voice low.

"It preceded the Chantry: people who banded together to restore order in a world gone mad." Lelianna supplied immediately from behind her. Still, Lin didn't turn around and instead stared at the door longingly. When it was apparent that she would not respond, Cassandra continued insead.

"After, they laid down their banner and became the Templar order, but the Templars have lost their way. We need those who can do what must be done united under a single banner once more."

"You're still under the rule of the Chantry though." Lin pointed out, brow furrowing deeply as she turned to look at the woman once more. Cassandra laughed at the elf, making her flush.

"Is _that_ what you see?"

"The Chantry will take time to find a new divine, and then wait for her direction." Lelianna studied her carefully. After mulling over the words, something clicked.

"They won't do anything for a very long time, will they?" Both humans nodded. A heavy stone settled in the elf's chest, making it feel difficult to breathe. Fingers twitching with the urge to reach for the amulet hiding beneath her gown, she instead ran her hands through the tangles in her hair, looking firmly down at the plain cotton gown they had given her.

I don't want this.

Can I do this?

No, this isn't right. I should go- but I can't. I can't bring that wrath on my clan- my parents can't help us if they aren't there. Looking at the two of them, the stone settled into her heart, slowing it's beating.

"It seems I have no choice." Relief appeared on Cassandra's face, though Lelianna only smiled victoriously. "But I'm not part of your faith, and I will not be forced to study it for the sake of your people." Lelianna looked like she wanted to object, but before she could, Cassandra cut her off.

"We will respect your wishes." Lin stared Cassandra in the eye, trying to decide what else needed to be said.

"I'm done with this tonight." She had meant to keep that part to herself, but contunued as though she intended it. "I can't do this anymore tonight. Where are my clothes? Where can I eat?"

"Ah..." Cassandra rubbed the back of her neck, looking guilty. "Your dress and cloak were disposed of by one of Adan's aprentices when he had you bathed." It had been her favorite dress- it was the one she had worn recieving her vallaslin. "There was so much demon blood soaking it, it couldn't be saved. Did you not see the clothes we left for you?" Lin made a less-than-flattering face in response.

"I will _not_ wear those. If that is the only suitable thing you have for me here, I will make my own clothing. But not now- food?"

"If you go to the Singing Maiden, Flissa will know who you are. Since we found no coin in your belt, we will happily take care of your monetary needs." Lelianna gave her a pleasant smile. "If we can find any extra cloth, we will have it delivered to your cabin." She paused, as though considering. "The cabin will do, yes?"

"The cabin was fine." The elf waved her hand to dismiss it. "It is not like I have my Araval, anyway." Pausing, Lin sighed. It was not their fault that she was now stuck in a situation that would give her no good outcome no matter what she did. Besides, she had already made an open enemy out of at least one person- it wouldn't be wise to make enemies of more. "I do not mean to be ungrateful. My thanks."

"You are quite welcome. Please, go eat." Lelianna turned and faced Cassandra. "We will need to figure out what we must do. Shall I have the others fetched?"

"You may as well. It is barely after midday, after all." Taking the dismissal, Lin opened the door and closed it softly behind her. The guards had not budged from either side of the door, and looked at her from behind their masks. The elf didn't bother with them, simply made her way to the doors. Once outside, she looked to the Chantry woman who was hovering near the door.

"Which way to the Singing Maiden?" She asked, offering her a charming smile.

"I-it is that way, my Lady." Lin followed the direction the woman had jabbed her finger in with her eyes, before looking back at the woman, smiling a little brighter for her benefit.

"Thank you." Giving the woman a nod, she made her way through the snow, feeling the cold beneath her toes crunch with every step she took. It didn't take long for her to find the building, and when she approached the door, the people around fled, giving her space. If she was being entirely honest with herself, it was entirely enjoyable to watch them scatter. It was also fortunate, because with her headache, she didn't think she could handle more new people. Entering the tavern was a little different as far as welcomes go. The more sober people did stand and moved further away, but the drunks all stayed put, not quite caring about whomever decided to enter their alchoholic temple. The redhead took her time to walk to the bar, looking at the decoration as she went. Tugging out a chair at the bar, Lin had barely taken a seat before a boxum human appeared in front of her.

"Are you Flissa?"

"Yes. You must be-"

"Lin, that's right." She sighed, slumping down and fidgeting with the clasps of her cloak. "My name is Lin."

"Of course," Flissa seemed unbothered by the interruption. "What can I get for you?"

"What do you have to eat?" Flissa opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a rather deep voice standing beside the elf.

"Get her some of that stew you have back there. More broth than anything and some bread."

"Excuse you?" Lin frowned, narrowing her golden gaze at the dwarf swinging into the seat beside her. Varric pretended not to notice her unhospitable tone, though he did give her a quick once over before grinning.

"Thanks. Get something warm to drink for her too." Flissa gave a brisk nod before setting out to follow his request, much to Lin's irritation. Sure, it sounded like it would be delicious, but she was never happy when someone else took her voice from her.

"I didn't ask for you to order for me."

"I know, but I happened to see Solas a while ago. He mentioned you like to over do it." Huffing out a breath, she rolled her eyes as he laughed. "Besides, after an hour, if you keep it down, I'll let you get whatever you want."

"I'm _not_ a child."

"Maybe not, but you did just go three days without a meal." The elf snorted.

"It was a bit more than that." Varric hummed in response, leaning forward on the bar to watch the maid approach again, placing a steaming cup before his companion. Grabbing the mug, she brought it beneath her nose, taking a delicate sniff. It was a spiced cider, and it had been a long time since she had smelled anything so heavenly. Bringing the cup to her lips eagerly, she paused just before it reached her lips to glare at the grinning dwarf, though a smile threatened to break across her face. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" Varric's hands lifted, eyes going wide with innocence.

"Perhaps not, but I did see you thinking something rather smugly."

"What? This mug be smug?" He gripped his chin with his left hand and gave her a dazzling grin. "Never." Lin laughed, her face relaxing.

"Wordsmith indeed. Are you going to get anything?" She asked as Flissa approached, the aroma reaching her nose well before she arrived with the food.

"Eh," He glanced at her mug. "Why not?"

"If you don't mind." The woman chuckled at Lin's apologetic look, settling the meal in front of the elf.

"Not at all." Once more the woman took off. Her absence was hardly missed as the redhead set the cup down without even taking a drink, using the large hunk of soft bread to dive right into the stew. Varric let her eat in silence, watching her from the corner of his eye, acting as though he wasn't actually paying any form of attention as she tore into the meal. He payed her less attention when his own food and drink was presented, though he didn't eat anywhere near as fervently as she did.

With the last bite of food devoured, the elf leaned back and sighed in contentment. Her head was already feeling better, and the pounding had subsided to a dull throb that was more of a minor annoyance than anything else. Taking up her cup, she took the first drink and smiled.

"You got some color back into your face." Varric observed, dipping his spoon back into the bowl. "Feel better?"

"Mostly. Head's still buzzing, but I'm thinking a nap will take care of that." The dwarf chuckled in response.

"Weren't you asleep for three days?"

"Perhaps I was. I'm still pretty tired though." She shrugged and continued to slowly nurse her drink. A slight heat had started to warm her skin, and a sense of relaxation swam through her body. The feeling of Varric's gray eyes remained, and she turned her gaze to meet his.

"So," His eyes flicked over to Flissa, who was still nearby, but not close enough to hear his quiet words. "Now that we're out of earshot of Cassandra and Lelianna's little friend over there... I don't think you're doing all that great, even putting aside from that raging hunger you've got going on." Now her own eyes moved to the barkeeper, frowning just slightly before meeting his eye again.

"What makes you say that?"

"Let's see..." He pretended to think, tapping his chin. "You went from the most wanted criminal and all of Thedas, and if you still being here is any indication; you've joined the army of the faithful." He spread his arms wide, as though to show off all of the incredibly faithful people within the room. She snorted, a smile working onto her face. "Most people would have spread that out in more than a single day."

"My three days unconscious don't count?" Lin teased, drawing her drink back to her mouth with a chuckle.

"Eh," Varric shrugged. "Not in my book- since, you know, it wasn't until ol' Windbags came out of the Chantry swearing that we knew you weren't being taken for execution."

"He upgraded me to trial." She offered, and the dwarf laughed.

"Ohh, how nice of him."

"A real gem, huh?"

"You got that right." The two of them chuckled together, and lifted their cups to their mouths. The silence between them was comfortable, filled by the quiet sounds of the tavern and broken only by the occasional laughter of others.

"This isn't what I wanted, you know?" Her yellow eyes stayed glued to her cup, watching her reflection in the half-empty cup. "I'm not a fighter-"

"I noticed."

"And I'm not Andrastian."

"And here I thought those marks on your face meant you were just more faithful than most." Varric grinned lazily at her, pretending to flinch away when she smacked her hand on his shoulder.

"Funny, Master Wordsmith." She rolled her eyes and leaned against the bar, smiling politely when Flissa came to check their cups. Seeing it unnecessary, she left quickly at the urging of another customer.

"So, what happened in there?"

"Oh, you know. Rodrick demanded I be detained, they refused, I said something rude and pissed them off; then they gave me a choice that wasn't really a choice." Now it was Lin's turn to shrug. The two were quiet for several long moments.

"You know," Varric waited for her to look at him again. "For days, we've been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. 'Bad for morale' would be an understatement. I still can't believe anyone was in there and lived." He shook his head.

"Why did you stay then? Cassandra told you you could leave." She leaned forward, curious.

"I like to think I'm as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy, but this... Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now-" He waved his hand towards the window, where the glowing of the green Breach could be seen. "There's a hole in the sky. Even I can't walk away and leave that to sort itself out." His selflessness about it made her feel guilt, and her brows furrowed.

"I wanted to go. I want to go." Lin corrected herself. "But... This forces me to stay, because without it, the rifts won't close and more people will die. I never had the option of just going home." The elf turned her attention to her left hand, glaring at it. "I may have felt differently if it wasn't forced on me."

"But here you are- not running, not hiding. I guess the best you could do right now is cope with it, huh?" He drained his cup and tapped on the bar. With Flissa approaching, Lin looked back down to her cup, saw the cloudy cider was almost at it's end and finished it off. Taking the cups, the woman left.

"I suppose?" She groaned and rubbed at her temples. Only looking up when the sound of cups thunking on the counter, she ignored the way Varric stared at her with as much care as she could.

"Well. Here's to coping." Taking up her cup, she lifted it in his direction, and waited for him to do the same.

"To coping." He agreed, saluting her and lifting his cup in time with her again. "Though, if I were you, I'd be running away the first opportunity I got." The guilt evaporated at that, replaced by an almost ironic sense of amusement. "I've written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going."

"You would say that after making me feel poorly about myself, wouldn't you?"

"Hey, I couldn't just leave you to think you were alone wanting to run." That sentiment touched her, and Lin smiled softly at him, reaching over to grip his shoulder for a moment.

"It's appreciated. Now, are you going to mother me like Solas, and not let me drink myself into a stupor?"

"Oh no, I'm not one to keep someone from drowning their woes in drink. Usually I'm the enabler of it, even." Together they drank, watching the bright sky slowly darken, until all that remained was the blood-red of the dying light. Yellow and gray eyes were glassy as they stumbled out together, but the buzzing in her head had stopped, replaced instead by a warm and forgiving fog. The morning, of course, would be an interesting thing to go through with a hangover. Though, she didn't let that deter her from laughing at a joke thrown her way, and the stares she received from the humans did little to dampen her heightened spirits.

_Spirits... Ha!_

"You okay there, kid?"

"Mm?"

"You mumbled something and laughed."

"Mm, 'm good." Lin giggled and looked up at the darkening sky with a grin.

"Well, that's good to hear." Varric chuckled. When they reached her cabin, the pile had grown some and she eyed the hoard with want. "Ah ah, it'll all be there tomorrow- trust me. You need to get to sleep."

"Ugh." She made a face at him before looking longingly at the items once more. "But it's mine." She made grabby hands towards the pile, pouting now.

"And it'll be yours tomorrow too." Even drunk, she could tell he was laughing at her, and narrowed her eyes at him in response.

"But it's mine _now_."

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?"

"It's mine." Lin offered, as though in agreement. He laughed again and reached up, pushing her in the small of her back.

"Go to bed, Lin. It'll be here tomorrow." After making one more face at him, she pulled open her door and marveled at the wave of heat that met her. "Night, kid."

"Mmhmm- night." Wiggling her fingers at him, she closed the door and leaned against it, breathing in the strange scent of the place. It smelled like medicine, and not at all like her. Frowning, she fumbled off her cloak, letting it pool at her feet on the floor before making her way to her bed. After laying down for a moment, she found the bed far too soft and stood. Without remorse, she began pulling the blankets off, tossing them to the ground in a heap. After everything was stripped, she laid down on the little nest and closed her eyes, breathing slowly to relax. Just before she dozed off, the image of the treasure beside her door came to mind, and her eyes popped open. Pushing herself up, she stumbled over to the door and peeked out, as though expecting Varric would be standing guard to make sure she slept. Finding no obvious persons watching her at this time, she crouched down, leaning against the wall while giggling quietly to herself as she began to load the front of her nightgown with her prizes, unabashed glee lighting up her face.

"Mine." She whispered softly to herself, dropping the last item into the pouch she made from her dress, holding the hem at her belly. Casting her gaze out one more time, she giggled and withdrew. Stopping just before her little nest, she began to line up all of the offerings. Pewter cups, a ring, a few items of clothing, a copper bowl and what had to be her favorite- what had obviously been a beloved doll, left behind by a child. Smiling dreamily at the cloth toy, she drew it to her chest, covered herself with the blankets and finally slipped away.

**Author's Note:**

> Ma serannas- My thanks, thank you.  
> Felasil- idiot, fool  
> Ir abelas- My apologies, I'm sorry
> 
> Translations will be slow, as I am attempting to use FenxShiral's Project Elvhen: An Elvhen Lexicon.
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/3719848 This is pretty amazing, so here's a link.


End file.
